


You Will Be Missed

by Believe_in_the_Journey (orphan_account)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, FACE Family, M/M, Plot Twists, little mattie and little alfred, minor very minor fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:31:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5041300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Believe_in_the_Journey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Francis end up in an accident with more than a minor causality. THERE IS A PLOT TWIST YAY</p>
<p>I feel like I should be sorry for this and how mean I am... and yet... I'm not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Will Be Missed

**Author's Note:**

> The song lyrics in quotes are from Jet Pack Blues by Fall Out Boy

* * *

_**”And I’m trying to find my peace of mind behind these two white highway lines. When the city goes silent the ringing in my ears gets violent.”** _

* * *

Arthur turned on his windshield wipers, trying to see through the thick turrets of rain that pounded against the pavement. It was so dreary outside, but the heat that blasted through the car kept the two passengers nice and warm. He flicked his gaze to his slumbering husband in the passenger seat before returning his attention back to the storm he was trying to drive through. He sped up slightly to put some space between him and the car directly behind him. The car fell back and he relaxed a little.

There was a flash of light that Arthur knew to be lightning, and seconds later the boom of the thunder shook the little car. He shivered slightly and continued to drive. He was surprised Francis was able to sleep through the entire storm. He had yet to wake up since it had begun. Arthur smiled slightly, wondering what kind of dream Francis might be having. He could not wait to get home and see their sons. The short vacation had been worth the alone time, but he could not say honestly that he was not excited to have the family together again.

A loud screech right outside his door startled him out of his thoughts and he jerked the wheel in his surprise. There was a horrible feeling in his stomach as the car spun out of control. Something slammed into the right side of the car and Arthur’s head smacked against the window.

* * *

**_“_ _The kind that makes June feel like September. I’m the last one that you’ll ever remember.”_ **

* * *

He woke up to bright white and the sharp smell of disinfectant. He blinked against the harsh light, trying to register the surroundings of the hospital room. A doctor was standing there with two small boys. “Alfred? Mattie?” Arthur managed to ask, though his throat ached and his head throbbed.

Both boys looked so forlorn, but smiled when they noticed he was awake. “Daddy!” Alfred said, looking very much like he wanted to jump on the bed and hug his dad. Arthur appreciated the restraint.

“What happened?” Arthur asked, looking up at the doctor.

The woman in the blue, turquoise-ish scrubs had a bright cheery smile that felt so fake, it was terrifying. “You were in a car accident. It appears as though the driver, you, lost control of the car and the other cars around it could not avoid hitting it. You are very lucky to be alive. There was no head trauma, except for a small concussion on your left side, and only a small fracture in your wrist.”

Arthur frowned. “And my husband? Where is he?”

The instant break in the small boys’ expressions, the lip wobbling and eye watering told Arthur everything. “I want to see him. Now, if you don’t mind, ma’am.” Arthur demanded, because it could not be true.

“I am afraid your spouse was not qu-” The doctor began, looking much more solemn.

Arthur kept his cool. He really did. He did not throw a tantrum or insist otherwise. Silent tears fell down his face and horror filled him completely, roughly shattering every trace of happiness inside him. “Please leave me alone with my children,” he said somberly, cutting her off.

“Daddy?” Alfred asked, voice trembling.

“Come up here, boys.” Arthur said softly, his own voice shaking as he continued to cry, shifting to make room.

He was ashamed of crying in front of them. He wished he had more self-control. There was no way he could bottle up the loss of his Francis, no matter how hard he tried. The boys carefully crawled onto the bed and curled up with him. Arthur accepted their warmth, taking pleasure in having his children with him. But he had never felt so completely alone. He realized Matthew had not said a single word. He knew how quiet and closed off the other boy could be. It worried him. It was not good for the child to shut all his feelings up like that with no one to talk to.

“We are going to be okay, you know.” Arthur managed, not that he believed it for a moment.

“I miss him.” Matthew said, his voice a very quiet, timid whisper.

“Me too, Mattie. Me too.” Arthur said just as quietly, the tears still burning tracks down his face.

Alfred started crying at that point, hard sobs that shook the boy’s body. An awful, heart-wrenching pain slammed into Arthur at the sound. It did not take much longer for Matthew to begin weeping as well. The loss of such an important person in their life was much too strong.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember exactly how Francis had looked the last time he had seen him. He never wanted to forget. He pictured the sleeping Frenchman, sprawled out as much as he could be in the passenger seat. One hand lay, fingers gently curled, on the console. Francis blond hair was loose and pulled over his left shoulder, the locks curling around his face in a lovely way that stopped Arthur’s breath. His eyes were closed and Arthur resented that he could not see his wonderful, glittering blue eyes staring up at him. His soft mouth that always tasted of some sort of fruit was turned up at the corners as though he was having a good dream. Arthur soaked in the memory, willing it to stay frozen there forever.

But then he heard the screeching sound and the sound of metal crumpling under a fatally powerful force. In that split second he saw Francis’ eyes flicker open. He did not recall it happening in reality, but this time at least, he got to see his eyes. It was not as wonderful as he would have hoped. There was sheer panic in those blue eyes, spoiling the image.

Arthur forced his eyes back open, breathing heavily. His children were staring up at him, Matthew already halfway out the door, mouth open like he had just called for the doctor. Arthur focused on his racing pulse matched by the rapid beeping of the heart monitor. He slowed his breathing down and tried to reassure the boys that he was perfectly fine. They did not buy it for a second.

* * *

_**“Our hands were just that close. The sweetness never lasts, you know.”** _

* * *

He was let out of the hospital after a week. But he was told he had to see a therapist every two weeks to make sure he was handling everything properly. Meaning everyone thought he was crazy and quite possibly suicidal. As if he would leave his kids all alone to fend for themselves. They needed someone to take care of them. Arthur could do that. As long as he did not accidentally poison them with his atrocious cooking first.

The boys were a fantastic help around the house. But every night, Arthur slept on the couch. He could not even go in his room without feeling like he had been punched in the chest. The boys usually joined him, wrapped up in their blankets.

His dreams were filled with Francis. None of them were nightmares, however. They were just of him and his lovely voice that had always made Arthur weak in the knees. He hated when he woke up and remembered that Francis was gone.

Arthur went to work and he took the kids to school. He paid the bills and was polite to his boss. He made food that only required heating up. He did not let his grief stop him from living. Francis would have hated to see him broken, so he acted like he always had.

But there were those small moments when he was all alone. When he was washing his hands or taking a shower, for example, when he just collapsed on the floor and shook with grief. Sobs and silent pleas to have his love returned to him echoed in his head.

He would give just about anything to have his stupid, idiot frog back again. But Francis was never coming back. But at least he had his dreams. At least he got all the wonderful memories. He would not trade those things for anything.

He remembered all of those times when Francis would come up behind him and slide his arms around his waist. The way Francis’ mouth felt against his. Or the times when, in the middle of the night, Arthur would be tossing and turning and Francis would wrap him up in his arms, draw him close, and sing a quiet French lullaby until he fell asleep.

He missed every one of those things with a horrible ache, but he was glad to have experienced them in the first place.

* * *

**_“Singing ‘Baby, come home,’ in a melody of tears while the rhythm of the rain keeps time.”_ **

* * *

Arthur dropped Alfred and Matthew off at the kindergarten and began the long half an hour drive to his work. It was when he was alone in his car that he could picture Francis with him.

He imagined Francis sitting in the passenger seat, going on about what he had planned for the day. “And maybe we could take our lunch together, mon cher. We are always so busy these days. It would be nice to have some alone time.”

Arthur smiled a little bit, fighting the urge to set his hand down on the console because then his daydream would be spoiled. And he would be alone once again. “It would.”

“Or we could call in sick and take the day off.” Francis said, looking up at him pleadingly.

“Someone has to pick the boys up from school later. And we can’t just call in sick. Imagine what a bad example that would set for them!” Arthur insisted.

Francis disappeared at that moment. His imagination could only keep up with his fantasies for so long. Loneliness enveloped him, crushing him into a million pieces. He glanced at the empty seat and wished that he could could hear Francis’ voice for real just one more time. He shook the thought away and looked up to see he had drifted into the other lane and a semi was barrelling straight for him.

****  
  
  
  
  


* * *

**_“Fight off the light tonight and just stay with me. Honey, don’t you leave.”_ **

* * *

Arthur opened his eyes blearily. His whole body ached. He realized he had just survived another car accident by some insane miracle.

It appeared to be the same hospital room as the time before, only no one was there. Someone must be babysitting the boys for him. He would have to thank them. He shut his eyes and marvelled at his bad luck. Two car accidents in the same month. Surely the doctors thought he was suicidal. They would never accept that it had been an accident.

A loud shouting voice yanked him roughly from his foul thoughts. “I DON’T CARE IF HE IS UNCONSCIOUS, LET ME SEE MY DAMN HUSBAND!”

There was a muffled, reassuring voice before the door opened, but Arthur was in too much shock to process any of it. That was Francis’ voice. That was his Francis walking in through that door. But that was impossible. Francis had been killed in the first car accident. He squeezed his eyes shut against the painful fantasy, but when he opened them again, Francis was still there.

“Mon cher!” Francis said, his face breaking into a massive smile.

“F-Francis?” Arthur questioned hesitantly.

“You are alive.” Francis said, looking so relieved as he collapsed into the chair next to Arthur’s bed.

“I’m alive?” Arthur repeated. “What about you?!”

“ _Moi? Mon petit chaton_ , why would anything be wrong with me?” Francis said, standing up and taking Arthur’s hand.

“The car hit your side and.. and you were killed and… please don’t leave me again!” Arthur begged, fear that Francis would disappear before him at any second wrapping around him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Arthur. The car hit your side. It was a very close call. We… were… I was terrified you would never wake up. You must have had an odd dream while you were unconscious, _mon cher_.” Francis said, squeezing his hand gently.

Arthur let out a sigh of relief, tears pricking in his eyes. He had so many more years left with his love and he was going to appreciate every second of it.

“You stupid frog. Of course I’m fine.” Arthur said, rolling his eyes.

Francis smiled even more than before. “Of course. You’re too stubborn to die.”

Arthur looked up into the sparkling blue eyes, and was surprised to see the smile on his face did not match the emotion in Francis’ eyes. What he saw was traces of terror, sadness, and anguish. “Francis? I am going to be okay, right?”

Francis nodded fervently. “Yes. There was some head trauma that meant you might never wake up, but you clearly did. You’re going to be just fine.”

“And you? You’re okay?” Arthur confirmed.

“Not even a scratch, _mon cher_.” Francis said with a dazzling smile.

“Then what’s stopping you from kissing me?” Arthur demanded.

Francis smile turned into a mild smirk as he bent over and pressed a gentle kiss to Arthur’s forehead. “ _Je t’aime_ , Arthur.”

  
“I love you too, frog.” Arthur responded.


End file.
